Mischief Managed
by A Random Bowser
Summary: QLFC Semi Finals: A Different Point of View "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."


_**Prompt**_

 **Semi Finals** : A Different Point of View

 **CHASER 1:** The Marauder's Map

 **Characters/Pairing** : A Mr. Malfoy, The Marauder's Map

 **Prompts:**

5\. (quote) "My philosophy is that worrying means you suffer twice." - Newt Scamander, _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_

6\. (colour) rose gold

7\. (restriction) No using ?

 **Word Count (-AN):** 1471, MSW

 **Note:** If it matters, I do not own Harry Potter in any form, except for the hardback copies of the books that sit on my shelf and they bring me no money. Please be warn that this story contains some immature jokes and slightly adult humor. Thanks to Ever, Nasim and my dear friend Nixie Nox for the look overs.

QLFC Semi-Finals: "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

* * *

 **Mischief Managed**

"The problem with Names is that they don't think. If Names thought, then Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs would have realized that pouring as much magic as they did into a single object was bound to have side effects.

Unfortunately, or rather, fortunately, my creators were Names, and as I have already stated, Names don't think."

"Come on, now, _work_ , you crummy piece of garbage!"

\- Malfoy: the Name flashed on the map in a nice rose gold. Said Map was not inclined to comply with the Name, but for the moment, kept still. Names always did the most confounding things.

"The wanker. I should have known he was having me on, but no, swore up and down, did he? 'Just steal the map', he says— 'it can show you how to find me. My uncles swear on it'. Hell, 'my whole family uses it', says he. Well, his whole family is bloody barmy, says I!"

The Name muttered, poking at the Map with force usually reserved for getting one's bedmate out of the bed in the middle of the night or for working up a really good sweat with one's partner…. At least that is what the Map had heard, and as he had never had—nor ever would have—a bed partner, hearsay was the best he had to go on.

Time was not an issue to the Map. He didn't age—at least not in the same way that Names did—and so could be slow to respond. Unless, of course, ordered otherwise by the proper command, which this Name had not given. Rather, it seemed that the Name was currently content with poking the Map with its stick and muttering curse words under its breath. Very unproductive.

The swears weren't even original ones, which could be reciprocated at a later date. The Map liked bits and bobs he could reuse and throw back at the Names at the most conveniently inopportune times. It made life fun, and, being that he was a map, the Map would take his giggles where he could get them. For now, though, it was time to get the attention of this name, lest the Map ends up with a hole in a rather uncomfortable spot.

"Mr. Padfoot would like to state that the only one you should be poking that hard with your stick is your bedmate," the Map said in the red coloring that Mr. Padfoot had once favored.

"Mr. Prongs would like to point out to Mr. Padfoot that it isn't a stick Mr. Malfoy should be using in bed," the Map said in the bright blue that had once been favored by Mr. Prongs.

"Mr. Moony would like to point out that poking people with sticks while calling their families barmy seems to be a bad way to encourage the positive growth of a relationship, and that stick-poking is best done in beds, not on desks that could fall apart under pressure." The words appeared in Mr. Moony's bright gold coloring.

"Mr. Wormtail would like to point out that Mr. Malfoy really should have thought to ask for instructions before stealing a magical artifact as dangerous and awesome as the Map." Mr. Wormtail had always used silver ink.

"Bloody hell," the Name muttered, scowling as he poked the Map again. "For your information, I am not currently poking anybody with my stick. No thanks to you." The last part was almost indiscernible….and the Map may have tacked it on by himself.

'It is a good thing I have no issues with interacting with myself,' the Map thought as it erased its former text, only to start again in red, blue, silver, and gold. Map always preferred speaking through the words of his creators. He fancied it kept Names from running and screaming about a talking map, and he would rather not be burned alive, thank you very much.

"Mr. Padfoot would like to point out that it sounds as though Mr. Malfoy hasn't been poked recently, and that if Mr. Moony is very much correct, the best place for poking is a bed."

"Mr. Prongs would like to point out that Mr. Malfoy is currently holding a long, firm wand and is very capable of poking himself if the waiting is getting too hard."

"Mr. Wormtail must correct Mr. Prongs. Mr. Malfoy's wand isn't firm, it actually appears to be semi- flexible."

"Mr. Moony would like to state that Mr. Malfoy should probably stop worrying so much about poking, as there likely won't be any happening tonight and that my philosophy is that worrying means you suffer twice."

"Mr. Padfoot would like to point out that is seems as though Mr. Malfoy enjoys suffering."

"Mr. Prongs agrees."

"Mr. Wormtail agrees."

"It is decided, then—Mr. Malfoy likes suffering," finished the gold writing of Mr. Moony.

"Oh, come off," snarled the Name, although he didn't poke the Map again, lest it lead to another round of jests. "All I want is to meet up with my friend, and he said that you could get me to him in secret."

The Map erased its text once more, only to start again in gold, red, silver, and blue.

"If I only had a brain."

"If I only had a heart."

"If I only had the nerve."

"All I want is to see my girl

And show her, she is my world

If I only had a magically awesome map that could help me

Get up to no good."

"Mr. Padfoot would like to congratulate Mr. Prongs on his awesome rewriting of some very old song lyrics."

"Mr. Moony would like to state that he believes that Mr. Malfoy is indeed up to no good."

"Mr. Wormtail agrees with Mr. Moony, but would like to point out that simply being up to no good is not enough to gain my help."

"Ahh ha! Ah hah! I see what you said there. You said _my_ help. _**My**_ help." The Name slammed both of his hands down on the desk on either side of the Map. "You will tell me how to get the information I want, Mr. Wormtail!"

"Eeeoooeeeooo"

"Hhhhrrrrrrnnnnngggg"

"Buuuuzzzzzzzzt"

"These are not the droids you are looking for."

Even as the Name spoke, the Map rewrote the words in the same colorful scrawl it had just used, letting the extra ink fade away. Then it continued the negative responses, denying the truth in the manner of his creators, playing with the Name, waiting for the response he knew was coming.

"It wasn't me!"

"Innocent until proven guilty."

"Your dream doesn't have an expiration date."

"Have a _good_ day."

"GAH!" screeched the Name. "Just. Just. Gah!" The Map snickered to itself as he watched the Name's dot jump around the room screeching wordlessly.

"Maybe if you tried fondling me lovingly, I might be persuaded to open up for you." The Map teased when the Name finally stopped jumping around the room, Padfoot's red ink and playful attitude perfect for starting off another round of play.

"No! No! No! That is just wrong." The Name's voice was a little high pitched at the end, as he cut off whatever else the Map was going to say. "Oh, bloody hell, you are not some woman to be kissed and cuddled. You are a cruddy excuse for a map if you're not the wanker's idea for another terrible prank! That's what this is! A prank! I should just burn you now; it would serve him right to see his hard work become a pile of ash."

Thankfully, the Name didn't follow through with the surprisingly rare (considering how many Names the Map had played with over the years), threat of burning. The Name's reaction of frustrated disgust went on...and on...and on to the point where the Map was no longer amused by it. When the Name finally returned to the Map, wand in hand, the Map decided to take pity on him.

"This is the part where normally I would sigh if I could, and say something wise like, 'the problem with educating stupid people was that they didn't know they were stupid,' or 'I am sorry, I thought you were a Name.' However, Mr. Malfoy, you are in such a pathetic state, I am just going to give you the answer. Please repeat after me."

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

The Name was so relieved at finally getting an answer that he ignored the rather offensive, and completely untrue, comment about his state of mind, and in his rush to repeat the words, didn't even notice that for the first time, the color of the ink wasn't the familiar red, blue, gold, or silver, but a shining rose gold.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."


End file.
